


Christmas Tree Farm

by kueble



Series: Christmas Tree Farm Nonsense [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27926236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kueble/pseuds/kueble
Summary: Geralt helps Jaskier find the perfect tree.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Christmas Tree Farm Nonsense [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2053890
Comments: 24
Kudos: 134





	Christmas Tree Farm

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a tumblr prompt of "Christmas Tree Farm" by Taylor Swift. Love this song!

Geralt doesn’t hate the Christmas season, but he definitely hates _working_ during it. He’s used to spending time in the greenhouse or on the back acres by himself, hands covered in dirt and sweat beading at his brow. This seems fake. He’s standing around, waiting for customers to pick out a tree - a tree that will be dead at the end of the month - and has to try and exude cheerfulness instead of his usual gruff personality.

“It pays the bills,” Eskel reminds him as he walks by, bringing yet another giant thermos  
of hot chocolate to the table next to the register that’s already overladen with cookies and marshmallows. He’s right, of course, so Geralt ignores the little boy screaming at the top of his lungs for a bigger tree and scans the lot to see who might need help.

He’s about to wander over towards a couple of ladies struggling to get their tree on top of their Subaru, but Eskel is quicker. Then there’s a flash of royal blue in his peripheral and someone crashes into him. Geralt steadies them and manages to keep them both from falling down on the gravel. “I’m so sorry!” is shouted into his chest. 

He looks down and he forgets how to breathe when he sees the most gorgeous man he’s ever seen looking up at him with a worry in his eyes. And fuck if those eyes aren’t the clearest, deepest blue he’s ever seen. He’s currently chewing at his lower lip and looking up at Geralt from under the brim of his ridiculous knit hat. It’s white with a little brim and has an obnoxiously large crocheted yellow flower on it. There are tiny curls of chestnut hair peeking out from under the brim, and Geralt wants nothing more than to run his hands through it and see if it’s as soft as it looks.

“I’m, ah...I’m good now,” the man says with a giggle, and Geralt realizes he’s still holding onto him.

“Right, sorry,” Geralt mumbles and offers a small smile. Then he realizes he’s working and adds, “Can I help you with anything?”

“That’s a dangerous offer,” the man snorts. “But yes. I’ve never had a real tree before? So if you could give me - a man who regularly kills his houseplants - a quick rundown of what I’m getting myself into, I’d really appreciate it.”

“Never?”

“My parents weren’t really big on it when I was little,” he says with a shrug. He licks his lips nervously before continuing, “And I kinda just got kicked out of my house because they caught me making out with one of my dad’s friends during the most boring dinner party ever? So like, I have no fucking clue what I’m doing but I just moved into town and I have an apartment and a job, so it’s gotta be good? But yeah, I want to Christmas the fuck out of my space just because I can now.”

“That’s a lot to deal with,” Geralt responds, already vowing to do whatever he can to make this perfect angel of a man happy.

“Christ, I’m sorry,” he laughs. “I’m such a disaster. I feel like that John Mulaney bit. _I’m new in town, and it gets worse!_ ”

“Oh, I don’t know him. Is he new in town, too?” Geralt asks, because honestly he rarely leaves the property their greenhouse is on. He’s too quiet for most people to deal with, so he just stopped trying.

“He’s a comedian,” the man says with another giggle. “How about I start over. Thank you very much for stopping me from falling on my face. Care to help me pick out a tree I can hopefully keep alive for the next few weeks? I’m Jaskier, by the way.” He holds out his hand and Geralt shakes it, getting lost on the fact that he has the same crocheted yellow flowers all over his gloves.

“This is brutal, so allow me to help. This is Geralt and he is also very gay and awkard,” Lambert steps over and chimes in. He claps Geralt on the shoulder and continues on his way. How long has he been standing here, watching him flounder in the face of all this beauty? He hates his brothers sometimes.

“I’m bi, actually. But that’s not something you clarify while your parents are telling you to pack what you can and get out, you know?” Jaskier tells him. Geralt wants to wrap his arms around him and make him feel better, but they just met and he knows his face isn’t half as friendly as the other man’s. So instead he places a hand on the small of his back and guides him towards the smaller trees.

“Let’s get you hooked up, then,” Geralt says as they walk together.

“Not really what I came here for, but I’m game if you are,” Jaskier grins at him.

“I uh...trees,” Geralt replies, before he goes into a long ramble about what to look for in a tree and how to take care of one. He knows he’s spending way too much time on one customer, but Lambert will have his back on this one, especially after being such an ass.

They wander around the lot, Geralt pointing out trees and Jaskier hemming and hawing over them before they move on to the next one. Normally he’d be annoyed with a customer taking so long to pick out the mythical perfect tree, but Geralt finds he likes his company. He learns little tidbits about Jaskier while they talk. He’s a musician slash middle school English teacher and moved into the first town that offered him a teaching position. His rush to pack and get out of his parents’ house means his apartment is pretty sparse, but his excitement about decorating for the holiday and making it feel like a home is contagious. Geralt finds himself rooting for the man, already feels oddly invested that things work out for him.

He shares more than he means to, handing out little details of his life that he normally reserves for his brothers. Something about Jaskier feels safe, though. Like Geralt’s known him for ages already. Plus the way he lights up at each new crumb of information is way too adorable for Geralt to resist.

“Hold on,” Jaskier interrupts him and holds up a hand. “You don’t even _like Christmas trees_?”

“Not really my thing?” Geralt admits with a shrug. He usually hangs a wreath on his door and calls it a job well done. There’s no need to decorate a full tree when it’s just him. His cabin seems too empty for it.

“Yet you work on a Christmas tree farm?”

“I work in a nursery,” Geralt laughs. “The rest of the year it’s just me and the plants, happily covered head to toe in dirt.”

“What a surprisingly welcome mental image,” Jaskier winks. “So what’s your favorite time of the year then, if it’s not Christmas? What plants are your favorites to grow?” And no one’s ever bothered to ask that before. Geralt feels his cheeks heating up at the attention and ducks his head a little before answering.

“The mums in the fall. The colors are so rich and they just...make it feel like autumn, you know?”

“I think I do,” Jaskier says wistfully. “I can picture you like that. All wrapped up in one of those ridiculously large plaid scarves with a cup of mulled cider in your hands. Maybe I’ll get to see it one day.”

“Well, I’m here all year,” Geralt says, mostly because he’s an idiot. He cringes and almost misses the smirk Jaskier shoots his way before grabbing him by the arm and pointing at the next tree.

“This is the one! It’s perfect,” Jaskier cries out. The tree is one of the shorter balsam firs, but it’s nice and fat with plenty of fluffy branches just begging for decorations to be hung from them. He can picture Jaskier trimming it, wearing one of those hideous Christmas sweaters and singing carols to himself as he adds ornaments to it. His chest feels tight, a strange pull that makes me want to be a part of that scene, but he shrugs it off and helps Jaskier get the tree tied down to the top of his car.

The walk to the register at the front of the parking lot seems to drag on, but Geralt can’t find an excuse to keep this ray of sunshine with him any longer. Because there’s no way the cheerful man feels the same way. Geralt knows he’s a bit too gruff, a bit too serious for most people. He frowns and pushes away the silly thought of asking the man for his number. There’s no use.

“Oh! These are so pretty, too. I simply must have one, possibly two,” Jaskier exclaims at the poinsettias displayed near the front of the lot. He picks up two and places them on the counter next to the register before smiling at Geralt again.

“Do you have any cats?” Geralt asks quickly.

“No, why?”

“They’re poisonous to cats. Just wanted to make sure,” he explains, shrugging as he starts to ring up the sale. He tries not to think about how this is the end of whatever daydream he’s been living in for the past half hour. It’s just far too easy to picture them together, just spending time with one another, maybe curled up by the fire in Geralt’s cabin or sprawled out on top of his bedsheets.

“I think I’ve got you figured out,” Jaskier beams at him. “You pretend not to like all of this holiday nonsense, but you’re not about to let some idiot poison his cat. You have this whole grumpy exterior, but inside you’re secretly sweet. Like a...like a chocolate covered espresso bean or something. Wait, that’s backwards isn’t it? You’re not secretly bitter. Least I hope not. Like a Sour Patch Kid, then. Delightfully sour, but I’d really like to enjoy the sweetness on the inside. And now I’m rambling again, so I will shut up and pretend I’m a functional human being.” He trails off with a sad chuckle, and Geralt suddenly realizes that this chemistry might not be as one-sided as he first thought.

“You’re cute,” he grunts out, grinning when Jaskier bites his lip and smiles shyly at him. “Let me take you out sometime?”

“Yes, a million times yes,” Jaskier smiles wider at him, and Gerlalt rips off a piece of register tape and scribbles his number down on it.

“Text me and we’ll figure it out,” he tells him. They stand there just looking at each other with dumb smiles on their faces for a few moments, but then Eskel is barking out an order at him and Geralt knows he has to get back to work.

“Looking forward to it,” Jaskier grabs his plants and shoots him one more easy grin before walking away. Geralt watches him go for a few seconds but then hurries over to help Eskel with whatever he’s yelling about. And for the first time in years, he has hope that this might just go his way.

**Author's Note:**

> Come play with me on [Tumblr](https://kueble.tumblr.com/)


End file.
